Reborn Nine Times, the Tyrant Always Wants to Imprison Me - Chapter 14

A frigid hatred churned in her chest. Standing beneath the brightly lit steps of the Prefect’s residence, Fangru took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing all the humiliation, resentment, and despair from her past life. Only one crystal-clear thought remained: in this life, she would never again be a pawn, never again yield to Zhou Ling!

She straightened her spine like a tempered blade, carrying all the sharpness and chill accumulated from her previous existence, and stepped once more into the hypocritical clamor of the Xuanji Banquet.

The melodies of strings and pipes remained as decadent as ever, and amid the clinking of glasses, the powerful exchanged knowing probes and flattery.

The trajectory of fate seemed stubbornly persistent, and the provocation arrived right on schedule.

Zhao Minglan, the daughter of the Minister of War, wore her usual affected, haughty demeanor as she “accidentally” carried a full cup of crimson wine and “staggered” directly toward Fangru, her face feigning insincere apology.

She was fully prepared to relish the sight of Shen Fangru’s panic-stricken, wine-soaked disarray and had even rehearsed her subsequent mocking remarks.

Yet, the scene she anticipated never materialized.

In the split second before the wine could spill, Fangru’s eyes flashed with sudden ferocity. Instead of retreating, she twisted her wrist and, with a swifter, more precise, and more ruthless motion, flung the contents of her own slightly chilled fruit wine back at Zhao Minglan!

Splash!

The liquid splashed squarely across Zhao Minglan’s face and chest.

Her meticulously applied makeup instantly smeared, and a large, dark stain spread across her expensive brocade gown, dripping pathetically down her front in utter disarray.

“Ah!” Zhao Minglan cried out in startled shock, her shrill voice abruptly shattering the harmony in that corner of the banquet.

Fangru didn’t even glance at the face contorted with shock and rage. She merely placed her empty cup unhurriedly on a passing servant’s tray and said in a tone devoid of emotion, yet laced with a biting chill and authority, “My hand slipped. Miss Zhao, if you can’t even walk steadily, you’d best practice more at home. Lest next time… you take a worse fall.”

This utterly different reaction and sharp retort stunned everyone familiar with her former gentle, even timid, nature.

Was this still the same Shen Fangru?

Just then, Su Wanqing hurried over, lifting her skirts, her face a mask of disbelief. “Fangru, what’s come over you today? Why such temper?” she asked in a low voice, her eyes filled with concern and confusion.

Fangru turned to her. Seeing her friend now—safe, vibrant, and whole—the memory of Su Wanqing taking a blade for her in the past life, leaving her paralyzed and bedridden, pierced her heart like the sharpest thorn.

Hardening her heart, Fangru suppressed the surging sorrow and the warnings that nearly escaped her lips. Using an unprecedented, icy tone, she said, “Miss Su, this banquet is no friendly gathering. Staying away from me is in your best interest.”

She had to push her away, to ensure she wouldn’t be dragged into this deadly vortex again.

But Su Wanqing, unaware of the reasons, was stunned by Fangru’s sudden coldness. Her almond eyes, usually warm and smiling, instantly welled with hurt disbelief and a flicker of offended anger.

Fangru had helped her before—why was she now speaking such harsh, dismissive words?

“Shen Fangru!” Su Wanqing’s voice involuntously rose several pitches, tinged with clear hurt and faint anger. “What… what do you mean by this? I was kindly concerned about you, yet you repay goodwill with such ingratitude? Just because you splashed wine on Zhao Minglan, do you now suspect everyone of wanting to harm you?”

Her chest rose and fell slightly, clearly agitated.

The surrounding gazes felt like piercing needles, magnifying this embarrassment infinitely.

Su Wanqing, who was adept at social maneuvering in romantic circles and accustomed to navigating among all sorts of people, had long mastered the art of being smooth and slick.

Yet, such a blunt and face-slapping dismissal remained extremely rare. The last time she experienced such undisguised cold treatment and humiliation was from that lofty, unpredictable Emperor Zhou Ling.

But after all, he was the sovereign—his imperial will was unfathomable. Even if she felt wronged, she could only swallow it in private.

But now, these mercilessly icy words actually came from Shen Fangru, whom she had just tried to defend and even felt some curiosity and goodwill toward!

This felt more startling and frustrating than disdain from anyone else—a sense of being misunderstood and unappreciated.

“Fine, very fine!” Seeing Fangru still stiff-faced without any sign of explanation or softening, Su Wanqing’s pretty face flushed red with anger. She flicked her sleeve and said, “If that’s how it is, then I was meddling in others’ affairs! Miss Shen, suit yourself!”

Just as she was about to turn away in a huff, leaving this detestable Shen Fangru behind, a voice dripping with obvious sarcasm lazily cut in.

“My, what scene is this? Sisters at each other’s throats?” Lin Yueyao, daughter of the Minister of Imperial Sacrifices, swayed a round fan as she sauntered over. Her gaze swept between the still-fuming Su Wanqing and the expressionless Shen Fangru, a look of amusement on her face as if enjoying a show.

She had clearly witnessed everything earlier and now came specifically to add fuel to the fire.

First, she feigned sympathy toward Su Wanqing: “Miss Wanqing, your kindness was truly taken for ill intent. Some people, though from humble backgrounds, act as if their eyes are on the top of their heads—looking down on Miss Su, are they?”

These words ostensibly comforted Su Wanqing but secretly slammed the “snob” label firmly onto Fangru, implying she was arrogant due to her lowly status.

Then, Lin Yueyao turned to Fangru, covering her lips with her fan as she let out a contemptuous laugh: “Miss Shen, such impressive authority today! But this tantrum of splashing wine—isn’t it rather beneath the dignity of us noble ladies of the capital? Anyone unaware might think some market shrew had sneaked into this Xuanji Banquet.”

She deliberately raised her voice, ensuring everyone nearby eavesdropping could hear the taunt clearly. She aimed to nail Fangru firmly to the pillar of shame for rudeness and shatter whatever slight intimidation she had just built.

Lin Yueyao’s deliberately heightened mockery was like a stone thrown into calm waters, stirring even more whispers around them.

She lifted her chin triumphantly, waiting to see how Shen Fangru would be left embarrassed.

However, Fangru merely turned slowly, her gaze calmly settling on Lin Yueyao. There was not a trace of provoked shame or anger in her eyes—instead, they held a scrutiny almost akin to pity, making Lin Yueyao feel inexplicably uneasy.

“Does Miss Lin seem particularly concerned with my words and actions?” Fangru spoke, her voice not loud, yet strangely cutting through the surrounding noise and clearly reaching everyone’s ears. “I just wonder whether this concern stems from righteous indignation on Miss Zhao’s behalf, or…” She deliberately drew out her tone, her gaze meaningfully sweeping over Lin Yueyao’s excessively ornate attire today and her seat deliberately positioned close to the imperial throne, “…from frustrated desires and wounded pride after failing to achieve certain ambitions?”

Lin Yueyao’s face changed color: “How dare you spout such nonsense!”

“Nonsense?” Fangru let out a light laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “If I recall correctly, at the palace banquet on the fifteenth of last month, Miss Lin specifically imitated the Flying Fairy Hairdo that His Majesty once praised from Jiangnan, and then ‘accidentally’ spilled wine before the imperial presence, hoping His Majesty would notice you. What a pity…” She shook her head with feigned regret. “His Majesty was discussing state affairs with envoys at the time and didn’t even glance up. Such ‘dedication’ failed to earn even a shred of favor, no wonder Miss Lin is so irritable today, seeing ulterior motives in everyone.”

These words struck like thunder, leaving Lin Yueyao stunned, her face alternating between red and white!

These details, especially the humiliation of His Majesty’s near-dismissive reaction, were deeply buried shames that Lin Yueyao never wanted anyone to discover!

She had even repeatedly comforted herself afterward that no one had noticed at the time. Shen Fangru—this usually mild-mannered, even somewhat reticent Shen Fangru—how could she possibly know?! And how dare she so viciously tear open these wounds, laying them bare before all these distinguished noble ladies of the capital!

Fangru remained calm.

Indeed, she wasn’t born to gossip or expose others’ weaknesses.

These subtle embarrassments were merely observations she was forced to hone while struggling to survive in the treacherous court and aristocratic circles of her previous life.

Like collecting fragments, she had unintentionally remembered many things about many people, originally for self-preservation alone, never intending to actively use them as weapons to harm others.

However, this life was different.

If gentleness and forbearance would only plunge her and those she cared about into the abyss again, she didn’t mind letting her words become sharp too.

The surrounding noble ladies first fell into an eerie silence, each face a mixture of shock and barely suppressed excitement.

Then, someone couldn’t hold back—a faint “pfft” of laughter escaped, like lighting a fuse, and uncontrollable suppressed chuckles immediately erupted from all directions.

Their gazes, previously scrutinizing Fangru, instantly turned into mockery and amusement directed at Lin Yueyao. So her targeting of Shen Fangru was actually because she failed to seduce His Majesty and was taking out her frustration!

“You… you’re slandering me! These are false accusations!” Lin Yueyao trembled with rage, pointing at Fangru, her words incoherent as she couldn’t find any effective rebuttal—because every word was true!

But Fangru had already grown tired of engaging with her, merely casting a cold glance that looked upon her as nothing more than a clown: “Whether it’s false accusation or not, Miss Lin knows best in her heart. A word of advice: instead of wasting effort spreading rumors, you’d better go back and practice your composure. Perhaps next time you ‘spill wine,’ you can do it more gracefully.”

“Pfft!” This time, even those noble ladies who had been pretending to maintain decorum couldn’t help but laugh aloud.

Lin Yueyao felt her face burning as if she had been publicly stripped and humiliated. Unable to endure it any longer, she stamped her foot fiercely amidst the mocking gazes and muffled laughter, covered her face with a round fan, and fled in near-disgrace.

After successively dismissing Zhao Minglan and Lin Yueyao, Fangru’s icy, unapproachable aura intensified, deterring those who had intended to watch the spectacle or strike up a conversation.

She paid no mind to these stares. Taking a deep breath, her gaze sharp as lightning, she swiftly scanned through the crowd of guests clinking glasses and chatting merrily.

Wanqing had already stormed off in anger and was temporarily safe. Now, she had to race against time to find that key figure—Zheng Yu!

Memories from her past life flashed through her mind: the White Sun Society, the Shadowless One, the conspiracy at the Xuanji Banquet… Only by finding Zheng Yu, who could identify the Shadowless One, and capturing the spy first could she gain the leverage to change her fate!

She recalled Zheng Yu mentioning that he had studied the dossier on the “Shadowless One” and remembered the spy’s distinguishing features.

Only by finding him, identifying and apprehending the White Sun Society spy who had infiltrated the banquet, and using this monumental achievement as a bargaining chip could she exchange it with Zhou Ling for Gu Zhou’s life!

She would no longer beg. She would no longer trade her body and freedom.

In this life, she would seize the initiative.

If Zhou Ling refused, she would join forces with her father, leverage her cousin’s connections in the Ministry of Personnel, and mobilize every court official she could to exert pressure!

She was determined to force Zhou Ling to release him!

Fangru’s sharp eyes swept over the crowd like a hawk’s, quickly locking onto her target. Not far away, near a corridor pillar, Zheng Yu, the Director of the Ministry of Justice, was conversing quietly with a colleague.

At that moment, Zheng Yu stood tall and straight as a pine tree in his dark official robes, his handsome face as cold as if veiled in frost.

His brows were sharp, his nose bridge high and straight, and his thin lips pressed tightly together, sketching an aloof and unapproachable demeanor.

His eyes were especially striking—dark as ink jade, sharp as blades, seeming to strip away all pretense and pierce straight to the core when he looked at someone. It was these eyes that had earned him the nickname “Iron-faced Judge of the Underworld.”

An aura of rigor, sternness, and unyielding authority emanated from him, starkly contrasting with the boisterous atmosphere of the banquet.

Without hesitation, Fangru strode forward, disregarding propriety, and directly interrupted their conversation. With a slight nod to the colleague, she grabbed Zheng Yu’s sleeve and forcefully pulled him aside to a secluded corner.

Caught off guard, Zheng Yu stumbled, his handsome face instantly clouded with frost, his brows tightly furrowed, clearly deeply displeased by this sudden affront and rudeness.

He brushed off her hand forcefully, his voice cold enough to freeze. “Miss Shen?” His tone carried clear detachment and inquiry, evidently both surprised and displeased by the sudden approach of the daughter of the Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Entertainments. “What matter requires such urgency?”

Ignoring his icy expression, Fangru stepped closer, lowering her voice with unprecedented urgency and certainty. “Lord Zheng, listen! A spy from the White Sun Society has infiltrated the banquet—the ‘Shadowless One’ is among them!”

She noticed Zheng Yu’s pupils contract slightly, yet his face still held an expression of utter absurdity and disbelief. Immediately, she added the crucial details: “Think carefully about the Ministry of Justice’s dossier portrait of him! A hooked nose, a shallow scar about an inch long on his left brow bone, and he’s left-handed! He must have disguised himself as a menial laborer or a low-ranking official to sneak in. Send people to investigate discreetly at once, and we’ll surely capture him!”

Upon hearing this, Zheng Yu’s expression shifted from displeasure to complete incredulity, as if he were listening to a far-fetched tale.

He scrutinized Fangru from head to toe, his gaze sharp as a blade, trying to detect any trace of mischief or madness on her face.